


Come Alive

by Ageofloneliness



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Attempt to break free from writer's block, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Drama & Romance, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gavin Reed Being an Asshole, Hank Anderson & Connor Friendship, My First Work in This Fandom, Original Character(s), Protective Sumo, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:47:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24602608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ageofloneliness/pseuds/Ageofloneliness
Summary: “Lieutenant, may I ask you a question?”“Go ahead.” Hank shrugs, bringing the bottle of whiskey to his lips, taking a swig.“What does it feel like to be in love?”Hank’s drink spills from his mouth in a spit-take. “What?” he coughs, looking upon the android with wide eyes. “Why do you want to know that?” He follows Connor’s gaze. The android is looking across the room at his daughter who is a having a conversation with Chris. It only takes him a few seconds to realize just what the android was getting at. Ah, shit.
Relationships: Connor (Detroit: Become Human) & Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Come Alive

**Author's Note:**

> I've been struggling with writer's block for the past few years and so haven't written anything. But thanks to the quarantine, I've been playing all my old games and when I got to this game, I remembered that I had wanted to write a DBH story. So here's my attempt to come back into the wonderful world of writing. I'm a little rusty so I apologize if it's a little stiff. It's not easy to break a four year dry spell.

Come Alive  
November 5th, 2038  
“Henry.” 

She’s sound asleep, her hands tucked under her head as a makeshift pillow. “Wake up, Henry.” Hank’s voice sounds gruff and he himself is weary. He rubs his tired eyes with a groan. It’s been a long day and all he wants is to go to Jimmy’s. 

He turns at a chuckle. It’s Chris standing behind him with a smile. “Sleeping again, huh?”

“Yeah” Hank sighs, “Second time today.”  
Again, Chris laughs. “How long has she been out?”

“About half an hour.” 

“That’s how Sheila first started.”

“Hm?” Hank lifts a brow up in question and the young police officer shakes his head in dismissal. “Nothing sir.” He clears his throat. “I was wondering if you wanted anything from the break room, sir. Since I’m headed that way.” 

Hank declines the offer with a shake of his head. “No thanks, you go on ahead.” Chris nods and walks away while Hank turns back to his sleeping daughter. Her snores were rising in volume and a pool of drool had formed on her desk. “Henry.” He places his hand on her shoulder and she jumps in response. “Get out the tree!” she exclaims.  
Hank blinks in surprise. “What?” 

“What?” She parrots, looking up at him, confused. Hank shakes his head again, this time in dismissal. “Okay, kiddo. Come on, it’s quittin’ time.” 

“What? Already?” she asks, yawning as she sits up in her chair, her hands rising above her head in a stretch. Hank retrieves a handkerchief from his pocket, using it to wipe the drool from her face. “Yeah, well, time flies when you fall asleep.” 

“Seriously? Again?” 

“Yeah. You’re lucky Jeffery’s still out.” 

“Shit.” Henry sighs, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m so tired.” 

Hank reaches out and settles his large hand on her forehead. “You don’t have a fever, so you’re not sick. Another late night, maybe? What time did Brenda drop you off last night?”  
Henry bats his hand away. “Actually, I didn’t go out. Haven’t for a while.”

Hank lifts a brow in disbelief. “Really?” 

“Yeah.” 

“And why’s that?” 

Henry shoots him a dubious look. “Why do you sound so surprised that I’m not going out?” 

Hank shrugs and slips his hands into his pockets. “Probably because you’ve never stayed in. Even with all the lectures I’ve given you, it’s never stopped you before. So why now?”  
“I don’t know,” Henry shrugs. “Just haven’t been feeling up for it.”

“That’s what makes me worry” says Hank. 

“Dad!” 

He chuckles softly, his large hand settling on the top of her head ruffling her hair in an affectionate manner. She whines and bats his hand away yet again. “Stop, you’re going to mess up my hair.”

“Believe me, it’s an improvement.” 

“Asshole!” she remarks with a laugh, smacking his arm. 

Hank smiles a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “By the way, what the hell were you dreaming?” She furrows her brows as she looks off into space. “I—I don’t remember. Why?” 

“No reason,” Hank grumbles, then he sighs. “You ready to go?”  
She yawns as she nods. “Yeah. Let’s go.” 

“Okay, come on.” 

Henry grips the armrest of the chair for support. When she pushes up from the seat, a surge of nausea and dizziness hits her like a powerful tidal wave. One strong enough to make her stagger. 

“Henry!” Hank is quick to catch her, guiding her back down on the seat. “Hey, hey, you okay kiddo?” She groans and shakes her head, trying to clear the vertigo. “Oh fuck.” 

“Henry?” He looks down at her with fret, concern engraving his old bearded face.

“I’m fine…” she leans forward, her elbows resting on her knees. Oh fuck. The nausea was strong, her stomach rumbling and groaning. She closes her eyes, riding out the wooziness.

At rapid footsteps, Hank turns. “Here’s some water” says Chris, handing the foam cup to Hank who nods a quick thanks. “Drink this, honey.”  
Henry opens her eyes and takes the cup, downing the cold water. It takes a few minutes but soon the queasiness disperses and Henry sighs with relief. “Feel better?” Chris asks. 

“A little… yeah, thanks.”

“What happened?” asks Hank, worry evident in his voice. 

“I’m not sure… I just suddenly got dizzy… Guess I stood up too fast.”

“Head rush. It happens. Just try to go slow next time” Chris says and again Hank turns to him, patting him on the shoulder. “Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome. Alright, well, I should get going. Working the night shift tonight. I’ll see you two around.” 

“Be careful out there” says Hank. 

“Always am. Feel better Henry.”

“Thanks, Chris” she calls after him as he walks away. Hank then turns to gaze upon his daughter again. “You sure you’re alright, kiddo?” 

“I’m okay, really.” 

“Don’t you lie to me, Henry.” 

“I’m not, dad. I just… got a little dizzy.” 

“That’s been happening a lot lately. I’m starting to worry.” 

“There’s nothing to worry about. It’s just like Chris said, a head rush. I stood up too fast.” 

“And what about your fatigue? You’re falling asleep everywhere, every chance you get.”

“I’m… just… tired,” she pauses, “Fowler’s been working us hard. And there have been a lot of long days, you know?” 

Yeah, he did know. He gives a resigned sigh, knowing there was nothing else he could do or say because his daughter was as stubborn as a goddamn mule. “Alright. If you say so.”  
“Good. You two are still here.” 

Hank groans and frowns, recognizing the deep voice. “Fucking hell…” Shit.

“What?” Henry turns her head in the direction the voice came from. “Oh…” 

Fowler approaches the duo. In one hand he holds a cup of coffee while in the other he holds what looks to be a notepad. “In my office, now.” 

Hank’s sigh is deep and heavy, filled with exasperation. There went the rest of his fucking day. He holds out his hand for Henry to take, and gently pulls her to her feet. She grunts softly and settles her hand on his shoulder. “Come on, dad. Best to get this over with.” 

“Yeah, yeah…” he grumbles. She gives him a gentle push and follows him up the stairs that lead into the glass cube Fowler calls an office, shutting the door behind her.  
“Sit.” Fowler orders, his eyes on the screen of his computer. Hank takes the seat closest to the door, slouching, his body language screaming that this was the last place he wanted to be in. Henry sits beside him and rests her arms on the armrests. 

With Fowler’s attention on his computer, an unnerving silence fills the room. Henry directs her gaze to the wall behind Fowler, taking in the picture of the captain in full uniform. He’s younger in the photo, with less wrinkles and a vaguely less cold demeanor than the one he carries now. Beside the photograph were his degrees, awards, and medals. A whole wall dedicated to the man’s career. An homage. 

Hank’s deep and loud sigh gains Henry’s attention. The old man has his arms folded over his chest and there is a deep scowl on his face. “Are we going to sit here all night waiting on you or what?” 

“Dad…” Henry whispers as Fowler shoots him a glare in response before returning to the screen, his fingers rapidly typing on the keyboard. Hank sits back in his seat, angrily muttering under his breath. Henry reaches over, placing a hand on his knee. “Stay calm…” 

When his breathing becomes thick and his leg starts to bounce, she tightens her grip knowing that Hank’s patience was wearing thin. Fuck. What the hell was Jeffrey doing? Why the fuck did he call them into his office if he was just going to keep them waiting? 

“Well get on with it, Jeffrey! I don’t have all fucking night!” 

“Shut the hell up, Hank!” Fowler yells, “I’ll get to you in a moment!” 

Hank again sighs deeply, the scowl on his face deepening as he shoots Fowler a deadly glare. “Easy, dad” Henry whispers.  
There is a prolonged moment of silence before finally, fucking finally, Fowler glances up at them. He sighs, his face is sunk in reluctance and what Henry guesses to be dread. “Listen up, I got a report of a murder involving a Cyberlife android. I’m going to put you two on the case—” 

“No fucking way!” Hank shoots up from his seat. “I don’t do fucking androids!” He charges out of the office, ignoring Fowler’s calls. “Hank—goddammit!” The loud crack of the door slamming closed reverberates on the glass and the room grows quiet. 

Fowler exhales deeply and massages his aching temples, grumbling. This day was just dragging… 

“Well…” Henry chuckles in an awkward manner, her discomfort evident. “That escalated quickly…”

“How is that helpful Henry?”  
“I’m sorry Jeffrey. But what did you expect? You know how he feels about androids.” 

“And I get it, I do. But I’m getting more and more cases involving androids every day! We’re swamped! Everybody’s overloaded! There’s no one else left to take this case! You two are it and you are just going to have to deal with it!” 

Henry raises her hands in mock surrender. “Easy Jeffrey, you’re talking to me, not my dad.” 

“Sorry,” he respires, “Hank just really gets under my skin sometimes.” 

“Yeah, he tends to have that effect on people.” 

Fowler exhales to calm himself. “Anyway, there’s one more thing you need to know. Cyberlife is sending a specialized android to assist you both in this investigation. It’s a state-of-the-art prototype. It’s going to act as your partner.” 

Oh shit. Henry bites her bottom lip as her face contorts in dismay, her stomach churning. Shit. Shit. Shit. This was not good. “I don’t know about this Jeffrey. Hank—” 

“I know!” He breaks off, takes a deep breath, and tries again. “Look, Henry, there’s no way around this. Alright? What’s done is done. Now, can I count on you to keep Hank in check? I can’t have him destroying the android.” 

She sighs. “You’re putting a lot on me Jeffrey.” He really was. Hank was an angry and bitter man who did what he wanted when he wanted, which made him rather difficult to work with and occasionally to live with. Yes, he was her father and yes, she loved him, but sometimes he could be a bit too much. And now with an android partner? Fowler must be out of his goddamn mind. Or desperate. Or both. 

“No one is better qualified to handle this Henry. You’re his daughter. He listens to you.”

“What?” She laughs, “No, he doesn’t.” Fowler’s face becomes rigid and serious and Henry chokes back her laughter, clearing her throat. “Sorry, sir.” 

“Hm.” Fowler hums in response. “Can I count on you or not?” 

Henry takes a moment then nods. “Yeah. I mean, I can’t promise anything. But I’ll do my best.” 

“Good.” Fowler nods and turns his attention back to his computer screen, fingers typing away. Henry takes this as her cue to leave, standing from the chair and stepping out of the office. She closes the door behind her and takes a deep breath, exhaling shortly. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What the hell did she just agree to? Why did she agree? Why her? She leaned her head back against the door. 

“Hey! Off the glass!” Fowler yells. 

Henry groans with slight annoyance and leaves for her desk where she signs out of her computer and turns off her desk lamp. She grabs the black leather jacket handing on the back of her chair and slips it on. Her footfalls echo as she crosses the floor of the bullpen. 

She checks her phone, seeing it was now six o’ clock in the evening. And yet, the police station was still roaring with life; phones ringing, keyboards clacking, chatter from police officers and detectives. How she had managed to fall asleep with all the noise was beyond her. Maybe she was just that tired.

A yawn escapes from her as she steps out of the station. Ugh, this damn weariness. It’s freaking exhausting. She shakes her head to clear the drowsiness away, groaning from the throbbing pressure in her head, feeling a headache coming on. She pinches the bridge of her nose, her eyes closing. Shit… 

She sighs at the blaring horn of the black Lincoln parked just below the stairs. Ugh. Rolling her eyes, she descends the stairs and grabs the car handle to the door. Hank’s deep scowl greets her. “What did he say?” he asks as she steps into the car, settling into the seat. She pulls the seatbelt over her shoulder, clicking the buckle in place. “You’re not going to like it.” 

“Just tell me” he grumbles, putting the car into gear. Henry sighs. “We’re on the case…”

“But?” 

“…we’re also working with an android.” 

She yelps as the Lincoln peels out of the curb and merges into traffic. The loud screeching of skidding tires could be heard behind them from a car that had to stop in sudden, its horn blaring.

“That son of a bitch!” Hank bellows, one hand hitting the dashboard while the other grips the steering wheel.  
Henry’s sigh is weary, and she shakes her head, her headache growing tenfold. “I knew you were going to react like this.”

“Well how the fuck else am I supposed to react?! Huh?! You tell me!”  
Henry shakes her head, her eyes rolling in exasperation. She hated when he took his anger out on her. 

“What the hell is he thinking?!” 

She sighs. “I know dad, but this isn’t about that. This is about our job.”  
Hank huffs and tightens his grip on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. “The hell it is. Why didn’t you say no?” 

“Because Fowler’s our boss. I can’t say no.” 

“Well I can!” 

“Dad—”

“No, Henry! I’m serious! I’m not taking this case!” 

“Well you don’t have a fucking choice! This is our job!” Henry screams in anger, exhaling to calm herself. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell, it’s just… god, why do you have to be so difficult about this?” 

The angry scowl on Hank’s face dissipates, replaced with sorrow, a deep sadness. The sight breaks Henry’s heart. He sighs deeply, all anger gone from his voice. “I can’t do it.”  
She reaches over and takes his hand in hers, giving it a small squeeze. “Yes, you can. You have to. I know how much you love this job. And I know you wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize it. You’re a lieutenant for fucks sake. So, act like one. Be the professional I know you are.” 

Hank takes his hand out of Henry’s grasp and reaches for the radio, turning the volume up and blasting the car with heavy metal. Henry sighs a dejected sigh and turns away from her father to stare out of the window in silence, leaning back into the seat.  
-  
The Lincoln comes to a stop before the Anderson home. Henry sits up straight and turns to look at Hank. “What are we doing here?” 

Hank says nothing and simply stares ahead at the road in front of him. 

“What about the case?” 

Again, he says nothing and Henry sighs. “Come on, dad. I know you’re upset, but we still have a job to do. You can’t just ignore it.” 

“Henry, please…” 

His face is lined with pain and grief so deep her heart aches for him, sinking as she realizes just how much trouble Hank was having handling the news. And that’s how she knows she wasn’t going to win this one. He was going to leave, and she was going to stay behind. Because what other choice did she have? When his mind is made up, that’s it. There’s no changing it. And so, she nods and steps out of the car, turning to lean in through the window. “So which bar is it going to be today? What time will you be back?” 

“Don’t know yet.” 

“Okay.”

She takes a step back and watches him drive off until he disappears from her line of sight, then she sighs and walk up the driveway, entering the home. It’s quiet inside, save for the television playing at a low volume. 

“Sumo” Henry calls out as she strips off her jacket, tossing it onto the sofa. A bark sounds from the kitchen, the large Saint Bernard scampering into the living room, jumping up and pinning her against the door, licking her face incessantly. His whimpers are happy, and his tail is wagging frantically in excitement. Henry chuckles and pets the top of his head. “Easy, Sumo. I’m glad to see you too. Now go on.” Sumo releases her and scurries back to the kitchen. 

Henry feels her lips pulling back in a smile, Sumo’s greeting having lifted her gloomy mood. Good old Sumo. She retrieves her 9mm caliber handgun from the holster strapped around her waist and sets it atop the foyer that stood by the door. Sighing, she crosses the floor and sits on the couch, sinking into the seat. She leans her head back against the cushion with an even exhale and closes her eyes.  
-  
She startles awake with a loud gasp and pants. For a second, she’s not sure where she is or what is happening and then she sees Sumo curled up in his bed by the corner, fast asleep and sighs in relief. She was home. She was safe and it was just a nightmare. A horrible fucking nightmare of one of the worst nights of her life. Fuck. Sudden tears stream down her face, a heavy weight on her chest. 

Fuck. Fuck. She sits up on the cushion, sniffling as she wraps her arms around herself. She hates when she dreams of Cole. Hates to relive that night. Hates that no matter how hard she tries to change things, she always fails. And it always left her ridden with guilt and a pang in her heart, an ache. 

The doorbell rings and Henry jumps from the sudden noise. It’s dark, aside from the light reflecting from the television. 

“Detective Anderson? Hello?” a voice calls out, muffled by the door. 

Oh shit. Quickly, like a child caught with their hands in the cookie jar, Henry wipes her tears away on the sleeves of her grey blouse. 

There’s a knock on the door. “Anybody home?”

She takes a deep shaky breath and pushes up from the couch, stopping as a familiar wave of nausea and faintness comes over her, overwhelming her. She falls back onto the sofa with a groan. Fuck… not again…

The doorbell rings a second time, then a third and Henry just sits there with her eyes shut, fighting to keep the sickness down. Oh god. What the hell? What was wrong with her? The nausea, the dizziness, the fatigue… was she coming down with the flu? 

When the doorbell rings a fourth time Henry sighs and shoots up to her feet, ignoring the nausea and splitting headache. She goes for the door in a blunder, wondering just who the hell this person was to come to her house and ring the damn bell continuously. 

She pulls the door open just enough and freezes in place at the sight of the stunningly attractive man—err, android (due to the LED on his temple)—standing right in front her. His face is sharp with edges and deep curves resting above a rigid strong jawline. His eyes are a deep honey brown and probably the softest she has ever seen. His hair is sculpted perfectly, all except a few small strands hanging loose above his forehead. Holy fuck. He’s hot. 

“Detective Anderson?” His voice is gentle, yet authoritative.

“Y—yes?” Henry stutters, clearing her throat. Fuck, why was she nervous? 

“My name is Connor. I’m the android sent by Cyberlife.” 

“Oh… right,” Henry nods and looks down at the floor, “T—the one Fowler mentioned. What, uh, what are you doing here?” 

“You were assigned a case early this evening alongside Lieutenant Anderson. A homicide involving a Cyberlife android. In accordance with procedure, the company has allocated a specialized model to assist investigators.” 

“Okay, but what are you doing here, at my house?” 

“You were due at the crime scene hours ago. I looked for you both at the station, but nobody knew where you were and after multiple failed attempts to contact you and Lieutenant Anderson, Captain Fowler suggested I come here to find you. I have a cab waiting.” 

“Wait,” Henry shakes her head, “Multiple attempts to contact me? No one’s contacted me. You know what, hold on.” Henry ducks behind the door, reaching to the foyer for her phone, picking it up and checking it. Fuck! She had several missed calls, unanswered text messages, and voicemails, all from Fowler.

“Detective?” 

Henry glances up at the call. “Sorry, what?” 

“I asked if you were ready to go” says Connor. Henry’s brows furrow. “Go? Go where?” 

“To look for the Lieutenant. I cannot report to the crime scene without the two of you.” 

“Right,” she nods. “Sorry.” 

“Are you alright, detective? You seem preoccupied.”

“What? No, no. I’m fine. Everything’s fine.” She shakes her head vigorously, waving him off. “Tell you what, let me just get my things. I’ll be out in a minute.” 

“Of course.” Connor bobs his head. The door creaks as Henry closes it completely. She leans against it and takes a deep heavy breath. Fuck. Her stomach’s in knots and her head’s pounding, and her body is aching… everywhere.

She glances down at her ringing phone, feeling a sense of panic arise within her when she sees Fowler’s name on the screen. Shit! Shit!  
“Detective,” comes Connor’s muffled voice from the other side of the door. “I happen to be connected to the department’s network. My scanners indicate that Captain Fowler is attempting to call you once more. I propose you take the phone call.” 

“Yeah” Henry chuckles uneasily. “Thanks…” She lets it ring for a few seconds more, before taking a breath and answering. “Hey, Captain…” she says in a casual voice, well as casual as she can make it sound. 

“Don’t you ‘Hey, captain’ me!” Fowler roars. Henry flinches from the intensity of the anger his voice carried. “Why haven’t you and Hank reported to the scene?! Where the hell are you two?! I expect this from Hank! but you—!” 

“I know, Jeffrey. I know, I know, I’m sorry.” She exhales, “Look, Hank didn’t take the news very well and he took off and I wasn’t feeling well, and I must’ve dozed off, but I’m on my way now to look for him.” 

There is a pregnant pause of silence before Fowler speaks again, in a much calmer voice. “Alright. I understand.” He heaves a sigh, “Did the android arrive?”

“Yeah,” Henry glances back as if expecting to see the android behind her. “What the fuck, Jeffrey?” she lowers her voice, “Why did you send him to my house?” 

“Where else was I supposed to send it? And what does it even matter?! Find Hank! Get to the crime scene! And do your goddamn job!” 

The line goes dead and Henry sighs. Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Best get to work then. But first… she looks down to herself… a quick change of clothes. 

Pushing herself off the door, she hurries to her bedroom where she strips off the white blouse she was currently wearing, switching it out for a fresh black V-neck. As she turns to leave, she catches a glimpse of herself in her dresser mirror. Jesus. She looks like absolute shit. Her long raven hair is messy and unkempt. Her lip gloss is smeared all over her face, coating her pale skin in a glittery sticky substance, and dark circles were forming under her blue eyes. Fucking hell. 

In swift movements, she grabs her hairbrush from her vanity and combs through her hair, fixing it up into a ponytail, then quickly wipes her face clean with a face wipe and applies her makeup. There. Done. Time to go. She makes her way out of the bedroom in quick strides, stopping at the couch to grab her jacket. 

She then grabs her gun from the foyer and slips it into the holster still strapped to her hips. “Okay” she breathes out, forcing down the nausea. She opens the door and steps outside, bumping face first into the android’s hard form. “Oh! Uh… sorry…” she says all too quickly, feeling her cheeks burning and her stomach fluttering when she realizes just how close they are, they’re bodies just inches apart. 

“No need to apologize, detective. It is my fault. I should not have been standing so close to the door” Connor replies, looking upon her with big doe eyes. Those eyes, oh god, one could get lost in those eyes. 

Almost as if spellbound, she steps closer, her chest pressing up against him and fuck did he feel good. The heat he was radiating, which was surprising itself, was so… captivating. 

“Detective?” Connor speaks. There’s a confused tone in his voice. 

Henry suddenly remembers herself and steps away from him as having been burned. Her face is heated and she’s certain she’s blushing. Her body is even shaking. What the fuck?  
She clears her throat and looks away from him. Jesus, Henry, get a grip. “We should, uh… we should go and… find Hank.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not too confident about this, but I'm going to keep going anyway. Feedback will be appreciated~


End file.
